Lost in Translation?

photo "Beware of What Wants You" by Tyler Malone aka The Second Shooter

It didn’t take me a second to fall for his eyes. Hazelnut brown, a tinge of blue and there I was. Flat on a floor, heart beating on the ground, tongue-tied. He was the only man in the room that did not mind me whistling. In fact, it appealed to his senses so much that I’d be greeted with surprise kisses and nudges. The only man that saw me for who I was. He didn’t care if I was too cranky after a period night, or too happy to pay attention to his endeavours that made things right. He was there. He is always there. He didn’t allow himself to see perfection in anyone else, that’s the definition of love maybe (I laugh at my attempt to cage such a freeing feeling, or free the caged?), his wagging tail punishing me for eyeing other dogs taught me so. And he is right.

He was the one who threw me in the ditch called love. Made me love love. I ran away but his leash dragged me to it.

Then began the love affair with love. But I couldn’t fall for anyone else’s eyes. Not even hazelnut bluish eyes. No. Not the eyes.

The last time you came over just to say “Hi,” there is a possibility that I might have fallen for you hard. Forget possibilities. I did! Go check my appointments, I made one with the dentist that night. The day you thought that I could solve your problems at midnight, I swear to God, I had no clue what I was blabbering but your relieved sighs, made me go on and on. Trust me, I die when I hear from you at ungodly hours but I live for it. I might sound like a bad human, but problems aren’t going anywhere and if in some of those, my name occurs to you and your fingers involuntarily dial my number. I could die and come back just for that love. When you left me flowers at the restaurant table with a little tissue note, I wasted two Polaroid shots on it but nothing could capture its perfection. I could hear how proud you were of me in your mother’s voice. If I can be talked about with Mums and Dads, and your friends know that I exist or even more than that, without ever having met me, that’s when I melt for you like you are my sun and that’s when I will flow for you, like you are my moon. The day you heard me shout over the phone, telling you about how many stars I see in the sky, I appreciated your effort to have the patience to listen. You know who I am and that doesn’t bother you. Then you stayed up and pressed my back and became my spine, there, then, I lost my mind. And all the: mind your step, walk carefully, get on the side, message when you reach, call when you are angry, take your time, this’ll pass, talk to me, don’t talk but I am sitting right here, go take a shot but don’t die, I am coming to get you for some time, calls when things shattered in a pile and landslides changed my location and my life.

I fell for you.

The day when you video called me just to see me cry and the day when you told me that things don’t last so long just to be lost so I mustn’t worry about the end for now.

I fell for you.

I occupy a space of 5.2ft. Of 32 24 and something. And you know me as person who’ll stay tight but you are the only one who knows how I get at night and my early morning voice or the music that tickles my toes and dreams that leave me sobbing.

You should know that I when I see you I want to get out of my space and get into yours. And I notice how every time we meet, you reduce the distance between our bodies. Because you know I’d be too shy to say that I want to rest for a while on your shoulder and take off for another world after keeping this one on snooze for a moment or two. I see it. But I’d rarely say it. I fear that it’ll be lost in translation. I fear that it’ll make you conscious of your unconscious efforts to comfort my overtly on the guard conscious mind.

Then on some days you leave me with half uttered I love you and semi floating compliments. But I know the only way to preserve it, is to let it out like a firefly from a mason jar. One by one. I know you fear that a lot spoken defuses words. And that keeping them buried in your heart, at least safeguards them. I know, like me, you fear what if they are lost in translation.

So we come back to: mind your tongue, you are an embarrassment, slight nudges, old songs, slurry talks, teasing, sleep overs, midnight banter, posts, messages full of hearts and silent prayers.

But what makes you think that if this ends some unfortunate day, that I won’t have your words to remember, so that’s the saving grace? I’ll have your skin to retrace and your puzzled mind, my favourite game. I’ll have you sitting next to me and simply your presence making me warm on a cold night and the imagination of the days that haven’t come as yet. Even that kills.

I learnt this from my furry blood family.
It’s never lost in translation.
Words come up in actions.
And it stays. Forever. We might not.
But the time we clocked together.
It stays.
So let’s stay. If not for anything, for you and for me.
For the love of time, let’s gift ourselves to the thing that gave us each other.

editors note:

Nothing is for us, we only exist here and now. The stars, the oceans, how our hearts beat, it’s all for time to forget. Still, we can pretend it’s all ours. And we pretend so well. ~ tyler malone

A bit about Kaushiki: I’ve been a self proclaimed writer from the age of thriteen. Poems, short stories and abstact pieces have been the staple diet I serve and survive on. After eight years of constantly writing, finally, I’ve found the courage to share with a larger audience. This too, mainly, is because one fine day, an acquaintace walked up to me said that after reading my work, he starts to believe that something good resides somewhere in the world.

That push was enough and here I am. In my own small ways I’ve been trying to alter thoughts, judgments and conclusions. Words have the power to calm storms. I want to be a part of that revolution.